Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
DREW
There’s something surreal about hearing a girl you’ve fallen for admit she has feelings for you too. Especially when that girl happens to be Chloe.
Now that everything’s out in the open, I should feel lighter.
And in some ways, I do. My chest isn’t weighed down by what-ifs anymore.
Chloe and I have both told one another how we feel.
And now we’re on our way to the next step.
I just hope I don’t screw it up because I really like her.
More than anything, I want her to be my girlfriend.
But there’s still one thing that’s distracting me—the aquarium for the charity ball.
I run a hand through my hair and glance at the mess spread out across my desk.
There are some half-finished sketches, color-coded sticky notes, and a printout of the ballroom layout, all scattered like confetti.
As soon as I got home from talking to Chloe, I spent the rest of the afternoon working on it. I’ve made some decent progress.
I’ve sourced the fish, and I’ve got about half the decorations I need being shipped overnight to the resort.
I should still be working on it right now.
This is the biggest opportunity I’ve had in a long time.
If I get it right, it could turn into a career doing something I love.
But then I picture Chloe’s gorgeous face, and I remind myself that she’s more important than any job.
When I worked for Pacific Skyways, I made the mistake of putting work first.
Although my life in LA may have seemed glamorous, I was always lonely. I lived to work when I should’ve been working to live. Being let go was probably one of the best things to happen to me. It was the wake-up call I needed to get my butt moving and to start living my life to the fullest.
I’ll pull an all-nighter working on the tank tonight if I have to, but I’m not about to give up my shot at spending some time with Chloe tonight. After all, this is our first real date. It’ll set the tone for our relationship. If I want her to be my girlfriend, I need to pull out all the stops.
Just as I’m debating whether I have time to add another layer of paint to some of the pine trees I’ve molded before I leave, the basement door creaks open.
“I come bearing offerings,” Emma announces dramatically, descending the stairs carrying a small paper bag like it’s a crown jewel on a velvet pillow.
I eye the bag warily. “Please tell me that’s not another candle. This room already smells like a Bath & Body Works.”
“Nope. Even better.” She drops it onto my desk with a dramatic flourish. “Special delivery from your girlfriend for one overly romantic fish nerd.”
Hearing her say “girlfriend” sends a stupid grin across my face. “What is it?”
“No idea. I was this close to peeking. But I behaved.” She pauses. “Mostly.”
Curious, I open the bag and pull out a keychain of a goldfish floating inside its tank. There’s a note attached, scrawled in Chloe’s neat handwriting—
In case you forget how many lives you saved this week. –C.
“This is perfect.” I chuckle, shaking the keychain and watching the blue oil or whatever’s inside swish from side to side.
Emma watches me and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “You two have officially crossed into Hallmark movie territory.”
I remove my house key from my pocket and clip Chloe’s gift onto it. “I’m one lucky guy.”
Emma leans against the door frame with a groan. “You used to be cool. Now you’re talking to novelty keychains.”
I glance over. “I was never cool.”
“Fair,” she says. “But still. You’ve got it bad.”
I don’t even pretend to argue. “I really do. Chloe’s the perfect girl.”
By the time I pull into the parking lot of my parents’ Christmas tree farm, the sky’s turned a dusky violet, and the first stars are beginning to poke through the clouds.
I glance at the bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat.
I picked up some white and red tulips from the shop on my way here and wrapped them in brown craft paper.
I debated whether bringing them tonight was too much.
But then I remembered who they were for.
You don’t show up to a date with Chloe without flowers. Not if you’re smart. I just hope she still likes tulips. I remember when I found out they were her favorite flower on her graduation day.
“Did you remember to bring the flowers?” Emma had asked right after the ceremony, yanking me aside as she peeled off her cap and gown.
It was about a hundred degrees, and I had no idea how she’d even lasted the duration of her commencement.
“Yes,” I said, holding up the wilted bouquet. The petals had already started to brown at the edges. “But I’m not sure they’re presentable.”
Emma shook her head. “Clo isn’t the type of person who cares about how something looks. It’s all about the thought. Tulips are her favorite flowers.”
I thought it was strange that Chloe’s own family wouldn’t have a massive bouquet ready to give her. Emma hinted to me that her parents were well off. But just as my sister had predicted, Chloe loved them.
“These are for me?” she said when I gave them to her, blinking in surprise.
“Yeah, they are. Congratulations.”
She held the bouquet to her chest. “Thank you. Tulips are my favorite flower.”
“Emma told me. Oh, this is for you too.” I placed a lei of purple flowers around her neck.
A small tear trickled down Chloe’s cheek. “I didn’t think . . . I never expected anyone to . . . just thank you.”
She hugged me tightly. I stiffened, then relaxed and wrapped my arms around her. She smelled so good. Like nectarines and lemons. “You’re welcome. We’re proud of you.” I didn’t know why I added that, but it felt right. Just like how I didn’t want to let go of her.
I’d only met Chloe a handful of times, but I’d always thought she was kind, smart, and funny. Emma knew how to pick good friends.
“Chloe!” Emma cut in, bounding over.
I reluctantly released Chloe. She adjusted her cap.
“Did you get lei-ed yet?” Emma asked.
I groaned. My sister was just as bad as I was with the jokes sometimes.
“I did.” She smiled brightly and wrapped both of us in a tight hug. “Thank you for these.”
“Drew brought the leis! The tulips were my idea.”
Chloe released us and gave me a huge smile.
Before I could come up with anything witty to say, however, Emma linked her arm through Chloe’s elbow and stole her away.
“Come on, my parents are ready to take us out to celebrate. And aren’t you dying to take off that cap and gown?
Actually, we’d better get some pictures together in it first. Shoot. I wish I hadn’t returned mine already.”
As they walked ahead, I stayed back for a second, watching them laugh, wondering quietly, where was Chloe’s family?
I blink back to the present as I step out of the truck.
A few of the workers in Santa hats recognize me and wave as I follow the slow-moving crowd past the welcome booth.
Christmas music drifts through the speakers lining the trees.
The scent of pine and kettle corn fills the air.
Strings of lights crisscross overhead, stretching across the farm’s main path.
From the wreath-covered booths selling cider and cocoa to the hand-painted signs pointing the way to the carriage rides, tree-cutting trails, and Santa meet-and-greet.
Dad outdid himself this year. I should’ve asked him for a job here instead of at the flower shop. At least it would’ve been more interesting than being the delivery guy.
“Wow, Mom, look! Santa’s reindeer!” a kid shouts, darting toward the petting zoo.
I glance over and smile. The reindeer are a new addition this year, on loan from one of my dad’s buddies up in the Rockies.
The usual cast of characters—our resident goats, chickens, sheep, and an obnoxiously stubborn old donkey named Waffles—are already drawing a crowd.
But none of that holds my attention for long.
My gaze drifts toward the far end of the clearing, to the temporary rink Dad and his crew built for the season.
And that’s when I see Chloe. My breath catches.
She stands at the center of the ice in a red dress that sparkles under the lights like thousands of tiny little stars.
Her hair’s pulled back into a sleek ponytail and her cheeks are flushed a rosy pink from the cold.
The opening notes of “Jingle Bell Rock” start to play over the speakers.
She jumps, spins with her arms lifted gracefully overhead, and stretches her leg behind her high into the air.
I’ve watched plenty of clips of her skating, but seeing her in person, I realize it didn’t do her talent justice.
And to think, she could be my girlfriend if my luck holds.
When she finishes the final spin and strikes her ending pose, the crowd around the rink claps and cheers, and I shove two fingers in my mouth to let out the loudest whistle I can manage.
She catches sight of me. Our eyes lock, and I lift the bouquet I’ve been clutching for the last ten minutes, suddenly aware of how sweaty my palms are from holding them.
She shoots me a smile that I know is meant only for me.
A shiver of delight travels up my spine.
“Let’s hear it again one more time for Chloe Reynolds, your reigning US national figure skating champion!” Mr. Mynt calls out. Tonight, he’s in a red velvet tuxedo, green tie, and Santa hat.
The crowd erupts again, and Chloe bows with effortless grace before gliding toward the side of the rink
Mr. Mynt hands her a microphone. “Thank you to all of you for coming out,” she says, her voice warm and easy. “I’m so pleased to say that all proceeds from tonight will support the Winterbrook community. So don’t be shy about treating yourselves to a good time!”
The crowd laughs.
Mr. Mynt takes back the mic. “If you’d like to meet Chloe, she’ll be signing autographs and taking photos near Santa’s workshop.”
She flashes one last smile to the crowd, but when her gaze flicks back to me, it lingers. And suddenly, all the nerves I’ve had about tonight fade away.
Ihover near the edge of the crowd as people begin to shuffle toward the photo booth beside Santa’s workshop.
The whole thing is decked out with garlands, faux snow, and two oversized candy canes that frame the entryway to make the perfect backdrop for a Photogram picture.
Chloe’s name is stenciled across the banner hanging above the booth, along with a sparkly gold “National Champion” sign.
I join the line, which winds past a booth selling gingerbread cookies and another with hand-painted ornaments.
Kids giggle as they clutch signed postcards, beaming as they pose beside Chloe.
It’s a side of her I haven’t seen up close before.
This Chloe isn’t the shy, quietly driven girl I’ve gotten to know. She’s a polished pro.
I watch as she takes the time to chat with each person as if they’re the only ones who matter, making them feel special. She’s making me fall even harder for her.
Finally, it’s my turn.
“Hey there, stranger,” she says, stepping out from behind the booth as a volunteer waves the next group of fans forward.
“I was hoping to meet the famous Jingle Blades,” I say, holding out the now slightly crumpled bouquet. “But I’ll settle for you.”
She laughs. “You brought me flowers?”
“You deserve them.”
“I love them.” She takes the bouquet with both hands and tucks it close to her chest, inhaling the scent.
I didn’t think tulips actually had one, but I could be wrong. I don’t go around actively smelling flowers since most of them make my eyes water and my throat burn.
“They remind me of the ones you gave me back in Fresno. I still have those, you know,” she says softly.
My heart stumbles. “You kept them?”
She nods, looking up at me through dark lashes. “Pressed them in one of my old journals.” She tilts her head slightly, her gaze lingering on my face. “Are you okay? You look like you haven’t slept.”
I shrug, offering a sheepish smile. “It’s been a long day.”
But before I can say anything else, a volunteer approaches with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but we’ve still got a few more guests in line,” she says, nodding toward the cluster of families behind me. “We need to keep things moving.”
Chloe sighs and smiles at me, regret flickering across her face. “Duty calls.”
“I’ll wait,” I say, stepping aside. “Take your time.”
She squeezes my hand before she turns back to the booth. I find a spot by the cocoa stand and continue to watch her work her magic. Every now and then, I catch a few glances she sneaks in my direction, like she’s checking to make sure I’m still there. Don’t worry, Chloe, I’m not going anywhere.